


Makings of a Tragedy

by purplekitte



Category: Final Fantasy XIV
Genre: Armor, Demonic Possession, Emotional/Psychological Abuse, Inherent consent issues, M/M, Oral Sex, Pining, Spoilers through 3.2
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-07-21
Updated: 2016-07-21
Packaged: 2018-07-25 22:26:30
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 643
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7549642
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/purplekitte/pseuds/purplekitte
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Nidhogg!Estinien pays Aymeric a visit in Ishgard.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Makings of a Tragedy

Aymeric’s hands tightened around the spikes on Estinien’s armor. Making a fist, he threw a punch, but it was only for show. With him barehanded and Estinien’s armor still on, the most he did was hurt his hand.

It was Estinien’s armor, but not Estinien who wore it.

Nidhogg chuckled darkly, holding Aymeric’s hips in place as he went down on his knees before him. Aymeric was not struggling nearly as vigorously as he might have been, the dragon’s prodigious strength aside. “He misses you. He dreams of you. He wants even your hand raised against him, but would you not give him better?”

Nidhogg nuzzled his head between his legs, drachen-mail helmet clanking off armor and brushing hard and cold against skin through mere cloth. Aymeric fought for purchase on the smooth surface of the mail, sticky with congealed blood instead of cleaned and polished. Nidhogg’s blood. Vidofnir’s blood.

He should raise a warning. Nidhogg was here, in the Holy See itself, overlooking the very Congregation. As if reading his mind, Nidhogg continued, “Such a sin you commit. What would they say, if they saw how filthy you are to want him even like this? But he wants you, even like this, too.”

Nidhogg’s eyes, bonded with his pauldrons, made the best handholds as Nidhogg undid his belt with Estinien’s long experience--always impatient to get to him--and licked down his stomach. His tongue was black as coal, his lips a burning red, sure proof of Nidhogg’s fire even if his mouth hadn’t been burning when he swallowed Aymeric’s cock down.

Aymeric bit his tongue to keep from crying out. The pleasure he could have stood, but Nidhogg’s eyes brought him pain too much to bear at the same time. He was no Azure Dragoon to be perfectly attuned to them, but he too bore the sins of his fathers in his blood. Worse than the memories of fire, worse than knowing exactly how much Nidhogg was enjoying his suffering, was the fact Estinien really was in there, was at least somewhat aware what was going on with his body. That Nidhogg wasn’t lying. Estinien wanted him, desperately—wanted to be held by him as surely as he wanted to die.

Nidhogg made obscene noises as he licked and sucked around him, hot and wet. Aymeric wanted to touch him, like in the old days. He wanted his hands in Estinien’s hair, to leave marks on his body no one else would be able to see. Estinien’s armor was for other people, and Aymeric the man who got to see under it.

Still he came, despite himself, the man before him greedily drinking him down and licking his lips as he pulled away.

Aymeric pulled him back. He kissed him, brutal and biting and passionate, holding nothing back. If only his lips were exposed from his cursed armor, then he could still feel that. “For him, monster. I’d let even you touch me to touch him. For love of him, I will kill him to free him of you.”

Nidhogg laughed, cruel and mocking. He twisted Estinien’s lips into a smirk so similar to Estinien’s own, even to Aymeric who knew him better than anyone. “If you didn’t love each other, it wouldn’t be a tragedy when I tear down all you’ve built and kill you with his hands.”

Nidhogg leapt from the balcony, a shadow once more. Aymeric should call up the guards, reinforce the wards, summon the Warrior of Light from House Fortemps, but he knew the dragon had no intention of any destruction around the city tonight. He played a slow game, drawing out the suffering of his victims, never letting them forget exactly what it was he took away from them.

He sank back against the stone, fixed his clothes, and thought about Estinien kissing him back.


End file.
